It’s the weekend, but I’m not in the highest of spirits today. For reasons unbeknownst to me, Facebook has placed me on “limited access for the next few days” for security purposes. No, I haven’t been posting any inappropriate content. Facebook is freaking out because I have signed onto to my account through several different devices (iPad, BlackBerry, laptop, intense stuff right there), so that clearly means my identity has been stolen and the Silicon Valley folks have to protect me. Please, people, let me deal with my own security issues. It’s rather frustrating, as I’m unable to fulfill certain aspects of my job without Facebook.
Today, I also replaced my six-year-old iPod, which was one of the last gifts my dad ever gave me, with a newer model. Headphones no longer work in the old one, which is basically dead. I’m surprised it lasted as long as it did, and while the replacement is great, I’m no longer authorized to listen to the first 1,000 songs I downloaded onto the iPod. Again with the nanny state security policies. I should just stop signing up for things. There are too many rules. Though I’m big on complaining today, I haven’t been lazy. I’ve been on the phone with an Apple customer service rep for more than an hour. It seems pretty miserable that they wouldn’t merge my two Apple accounts as they did with my previous iPod. Trust me, it’s beyond humiliating to explain the naming process between my Apple IDs, which I created in high school. Lets just say the names are beyond embarrassing. I literally told the guy over the phone, “I created that account when I was 15,” and he laughed. The only problem is I’m 23 now, and the real world doesn’t take kindly to young women who never bothered to change their Apple ID from “iamthesushiman” (inside joke with friends, only Crystal, Lauren, and Nikita get it) to something more grown up and dignified.
I don’t even care about the money I’m going to lose here. It’s depressing to no longer have access to the songs that got me through my final year of high school, one of the most intense periods of my life. Those songs transport me to 2006, when my dad and I took bi-weekly drives up to Stanford for my jaw appointments. They remind me of cheesy dance parties my friends and I had. They bring me back to the only time in my life in which I was in love. Too bad those songs have been wiped from my hard drive.
Again, I know these are silly type-A problems, but I’d like to think there’s more to it than being an over-privileged California. I actually need Facebook for work, and losing access to music from my past makes me feel even more disconnected from my old life than I already do. Growing up, music united my entire family. A former taxi driver, my dad could not be in a vehicle without blasting his favorite tunes. He introduced me to The Ramones, Cheap Trick, The Beatles, and many of his other favorites. I guess that means it’s time for a clean slate. None of my New York friends are returning my text messages tonight, but at least the Apple sales rep is keeping me company on this customer service call. Read: SARCASM.